The last two weeks have seen me leave the
vineyard at Guldbaek (just south of Aalborg), spend several days on Denmark’s
west coast at Esbjerg, then move to a llama farm (!) at Ebeltoft, which juts (!) eastward from the Jutland peninsula.

At
Guldbaek there were plenty of interesting woodland and countryside birds about,
notable being good views of a normally skiddish Hooded Crow, a European Greenfinch
with an apparently deformed bill, and several Dunnock posing on the tips of young spruce
trees, just like they’re supposed to. I finally got a decent look at some Long-tailed Tits around Guldbaek,
which appeared to be intermediate between the black-headed form found further south, and northern white-headed
caudatus form.

Most
notable in the hilly fields around Ebeltoft have been large (100-300 of each species)
mixed flocks of Northern Lapwing, Common Starling, and Black-headed Gull resting
in the fields or flying overhead, with smaller numbers (30-80) of European Golden
Plover sprinkled in. Also seen in and
around Ebeltoft were: a single Northern Wheatear perching on a pile of
haystacks, apparently on its way south; loose groups of Meadow Pipits and
Linnets rippling overhead fairly regularly; six Grey Partridge flushing close
to a road and landing nearby; a Great Grey Shrike keeping vigil from a dead
tree next to the llama farm; and a Common Ringed Plover pacing the nearby beach.

I have been hanging out at a Danish vineyard for two weeks - I'd highly recommend it. Whenever possible, I've been sneaking off into the countryside to bird, as I do. It's been said that if you stand on a case of beer, you can see all of Denmark, and that's not too far off. It's a depressingly flat country, not blessed with a huge range of dramatic landscapes - you'd be hard-pressed to see something other than farms and small woods from the window of a cross-country train.

In spite of being so topographically challenged, Denmark is in a geographically interesting spot, with an northern/eastern European flavour to some of the bird life. Denmark also lies in a strategically important spot as far as north-south migration is concerned - apparently this week there are 'dozens' of birders stacked up at Skagen, Denmark's northernmost tip. I ran into Skagen's frigid waters, where North Sea meets Baltic, in my underwear once. In February. But that will have to remain a story for another day.

The woods here are pretty lively with tits and other birds one might expect to find in the European woods. The bird of the week has to be the Crested Tit. As I looked through my Collins for birds that I may have a chance at seeing in Denmark, the Crested Tit jumped out as my number one target bird, for better or worse. The very next day, as I was picking through a mixed group of tits, a Crested Tit landed perhaps four feet from my eyes, which threatened to pop out of my head and hit the bird. I spent an amazing three minutes watching it from close range, strongly wondering why I had left my camera behind. The few Crested Tits I've encountered seem to have an 'authority' about them, if that makes any bit of sense. The other tits clear off when a Crested Tit comes through, and it takes its time, moving around a lot less nervously than most birds of a similar size. Perhaps it's all in my head.

Off to Esbjerg on the west coast next week, I'm hoping to get more of a taste of the fall migration, as well as meet up with Jens Thalund, a fine fellow whom I had the pleasure of birding with on Jeju in 2011.

I
spent a very pleasant and crisp (not freezing cold, as the locals claimed) few
days in the Peaks District, in Derbyshire. It definitely felt like a halfway-point between Amersham and the Lake
District - with fields of grain, rolling green hills, and more impressive rocky
features covered in gorse and heather. There was some great bird action about in the hills!

I
was pleased to finally catch up with the elusive White-throated Dipper,
and got long and satisfying, if distant views, as it sat there like a blob of chocolate-covered
marshmallow. Dipper undipped, very
nice. It was spotted on a very small section of faster-moving water on a long stretch of mostly stagnant river.

Common Redstarts seemed to be ‘everywhere’,
as I encountered at least five on a hike near Monyash. One
female was following a Spotted Flycatcher around quite closely, to the seeming
confusion of the latter.

My
bird of the trip was definitely the Whinchat. As I was making my way around the circular valley feature at Burbage, I
kept looking at the habitat thinking ‘There have GOT to be Whinchats around!’ Several hundred metres before returning to
the parking lot, I spotted a small brown bird perched on a rock, and it didn’t
feel like another Meadow Pipit. I wish I
could bottle the feeling that washes hot and cold over me when I get my first bino-view
of a long-awaited lifer (and it looks just like it does in the book!) - if I could, I reckon I’d be rich.

About Me

Howdy! I'm a birder from Montreal who has been working and birding in South Korea since 2005. I've lived on Jeju and Geoje Islands, and have birded at a diverse range of sites in South Korea. After drifting around Europe for a bit, I'm back in Suncheon, Korea for one last hurrah. Ergo sum ego avem. (contact me at mattpoll24 at gmail dot com)